


Amid Shot and Shell

by twinpeaksrocktoss



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War I, Anakin hates Sand, F/M, I will update tags as I go, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, even in 1916, officer!Obi-Wan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:02:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinpeaksrocktoss/pseuds/twinpeaksrocktoss
Summary: Obi-Wan finds himself faced with a vital mission meant for his old mentor, but with the men he trusts most by his side, it seems quite possible.~First World War Alternate Universe~
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 43





	1. Best Man for the Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Treetart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treetart/gifts).



Obi-Wan blinked down at his briefing schedule, for the first time in a very long while, totally lost for words.

He was to be made a General. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Captain of His Majesty’s Armed Forces was to be made a General. 

He glanced up at the oil painting of the King which hung proudly between portraits of General Windu in various stages of his illustrious military career. When he returned to it, the thick wad of paper he had been hastily handed by a stern looking woman in the foyer of General Windu’s London offices remained unchanged. There, in black and white, was the first order of the session, a rushed ceremony of promotion for five officers preparing for deployment with the highest honour going to him.

Shaking off the dizzying rush the sudden discovery had brought, Obi-Wan dutifully, if distractedly, scanned the rest of the document, picking out key phrases such as ‘utmost importance’, ‘gesture of cooperation’, ‘Canadian support’, and most intriguingly ‘top secret’. 

Large ornate doors suddenly swung open as a red-faced gentleman, brigadier uniform buttoned to his large chin, strode from Windu’s office. Obi-Wan snapped to attention, posture straightening on instinct, before he realised the man had stormed straight past him without any indication that he knew he was even there. Once the brigadier had stomped off out of sight, Obi-Wan leant forward to peer into the room he had vacated, slightly amused to see Former-Field Marshall Yoda, Generals Mundi, Plo and Windu, and Colonel Fisto looking a more than a little astonished. Well, Fisto looked as buoyant as ever, while his seniors shared wary looks and the same repressed exhaustion felt by every officer who had served since 1914. 

“That went well, I take it?” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows, still leaning past the doorframe, hat neatly tucked against his side.

“In you come, Kenobi,” Plo recovered first, clapping Obi-Wan on the back with a warm smile almost entirely obscured by his thick grey moustache. He had always liked General Plo. “It’s good to see you, my boy,”

“And you, gentlemen,” Obi-Wan bowed politely, no more than a quick inclination of the head, before allowing Plo to guide him into a high-backed chair around the deceptively large mahogany table, top painted with a detailed, if a little faded, map of the world. Former-Field Marshall Yoda, a very small, very elderly man with a reputation which Obi-Wan suspected was equal parts truth and legend, was idly pushing little blue blocks around the map with a walking stick. Even though he was swimming in his large ceremonial jacket he still managed to project an air of quiet authority.

“Now, tell me, Kenobi,” Fisto leant his forearms on the table, mischief written across his face, before turning to Windu on his left. “If you don’t mind, of course,”

“Go ahead, Kit,” Plo relaxed into his considerably more plush-looking armchair, dark glasses glinting. Windu looked as if he was supressing the urge to roll his eyes, a look Obi-Wan was very familiar with.

“How the devil did you get these old fellows to make you a General?”

“Well, I suppose my unmatched skill in battle must have contributed,” Obi-Wan teased with a wry smile. He and Kit had been Lieutenants together, before they were deployed, before they both had their world views shattered on different sides of the world, before Gallipoli. 

“Hm, that and your remarkable ability to talk your way out of anything,” Kit considered, stroking his chin where a beard would be if he had the patience to grow one. “Such as, oh I can’t recall, perhaps,” he paused. “The Western Front?”

“Now, now lads,” Plo played the mediator quite well. “Obi-Wan proved himself quite adequately in the desert,”

“More than adequate, I’d wager, dear General,” Obi-Wan smiled smugly at Kit who rolled his eyes, clearly lacking Windu’s restraint.

“One would do well not to brag, Kenobi,” General Mundi scolded, but his austere aristocratic tone lacked any edge. “It’s unbecoming.”

“Quite,” Kit snorted. “You charge one train-“

“Armoured train,” Obi-Wan corrected. “On horseback,”

“-and destroy one hangar-“

“Highly defended aircraft hangar-“

“And you think you’re the hero of the Empire,” Kit had never lost his sense of humour, which shone through even the kind of bitterness only war can bring, a kind they all shared to some degree or other.

Obi-Wan just winked at him. Kit always reminded him of his school days, surrounded by boys brimming with British sensibility and competitive spirit. 

“Speaking of the Empire, if you boys are quite finished,” Windu cleared his throat. “We have its business to attend to,”

“Quite,” Mundi straightened in his chair. It didn’t look as comfortable as Plo’s, Obi-Wan noted. 

“I was under the impression that there were others to receive commendations,” Obi-Wan said, opening his agenda booklet once more. His name boldly printed next to his new rank filled him with no small amount of dread.

“In dispatches, we will deal with them, yes, in dispatches,” Yoda croaked in the strange, sombre way he had. He waved a gnarled hand. “With you, we must deal at present,”

“What we have for you is of utmost importance, and is top secret,” Plo parroted the words of the briefing that had struck Obi-Wan.

He sat a little straighter.

“Indeed,” Windu looked as severe as ever. “While your conduct in Gallipoli was highly impressive, and your record is more than sufficient for praise, it in answer to more-“ he faltered. “More bleak circumstances that we have decided to make you a General.”

“We were terribly sorry to hear of Qui-Gon’s passing,” Plo’s voice was soft and sincere. 

Obi-Wan nodded, images of near-unbearable sun, burning sand, flashing bayonets, and so many dead and dying flashing through his mind. He was proud at how controlled he was, at how his expression never faltered, never even flickered with pain at the mention of Qui-Gon.

“We understand you were close,” said Mundi.

“Yes sir, he was my tutor at Cambridge, then my superior officer. I served at his side from my first deployment,” Obi-Wan felt the weight of his words in Kit’s solemn eyes, in Plo’s careful nod, in Windu’s tightened jaw. Qui-Gon was a schoolmaster, a teacher, a lover of philosophy and the classics, not a General. He supposed they were the lucky ones, the aristocracy with the option of official roles to escape joining the rank and file marched over to the continent for King and Country. But Qui-Gon was never meant to march off to war, none of them were. Obi-Wan shut down that train of thought; like it or not, they were at war, and Britain needed every competent mind it had. 

“This mission was devised with Jinn in mind,” Windu stood stiffly and unfurled a roll of paper marked with intricate maps and coordinates. “You are our best alternative. As you can see, we require a considerably able squad of the finest the Empire has to offer. You will also notice that the Canadians have a, what to call it, a vested interest in this particular venture,”

“He means they wanted this one for themselves,” Kit stood at Windu’s side eyebrows briefly quirking out of their professional frown he directed toward the map before he returned his focus to the serious matter at hand.

“Quite,” Windu acquiesced. “You will remember General Skywalker from your last deployment,”

“Anakin? A General?” Obi-Wan laughed, forgetting himself. He was discouraged from snapping back into professionalism by Plo’s low chuckle at his outburst. “Now I see the need for my promotion,”

“Not to be out done, the Great British Empire, no, no, out done we cannot be,” Yoda nodded gravely.

“You will both work together; he is to be their representative. From what I have heard he volunteered once your name was mentioned,” Windu slid a thick portfolio over to him, skimming it across the Pacific Ocean painted atop the table. 

“He’s a good man, and an excellent solider. I served with him in the East and I’d be happy to work alongside him again,” Obi-Wan assured Windu who nodded, the closest approximation to a smile the man ever gave.

“It is settled then, General Kenobi,” Mundi levelled him with an approving, grandfatherly gaze. 

“Gosh,” Obi-Wan said, despite himself, at hearing the title aloud. It didn’t sound real.

“Congratulations,” said Yoda, and if Obi-Wan didn’t know any better, he would say the old man was grinning. 

“Thank you, sir,” he bowed his head.

“You don’t need us to emphasise how important this is,” Windu clasped his hands behind his back, still standing, casting an impressive shadow across Eastern Europe. “You and Skywalker will take this stronghold and cut the Boche off altogether. Any attempt to break their lines will be relying on you.”

“I won’t fail you,” Obi-Wan stood, hat in one hand, portfolio, and booklet in the other. 

“Apologies for the theatrics, my boy, but we must ask you to destroy anything that could be used to jeopardize the mission. Burn it if you must, but secrecy is paramount,” Plo said.

“Of course,” Obi-Wan smiled at him, before remembering a detail he was still unsure of. “One thing, General Windu, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“It says here that I’ll be in command of a special covert force from the Dominions,” 

“Ah, yes. We took the liberty of assigning you some of the best men from one of your previous campaigns. Our own boys are too pinned down to reassign, and the delicate system in place for their rotation from deployment and coming home is simply not worth disrupting. The squadron chosen from the New Zealand Division will land and meet you in France,” Windu informed succinct as ever. “You and Skywalker will leave at first light tomorrow,”

“Very good, Sir,” Obi-Wan returned the polite nods directed toward him, and Kit’s encouraging smile. 

“Good luck, General,” Windu looked as if he wanted to shake his hand, but the vast expanse of the planning table would make it far too undignified an action to bother with. 

Obi-Wan left the room with a familiar stone of dread falling into his stomach. Qui-Gon’s mission was his: he could not fail. The stakes were high and General Kenobi was to be shipped out to France.

*

Captain Cody Fett grimaced as his boots sunk into the mud and turned to help his brother clamber off the boat they’d arrived in. Rex batted his hands away and leapt the gap. He didn’t quite make it and if Cody had to grab his webbing to pull him onto the shore, he would never admit it. Cody slapped him on the shoulder.

The rest of the squad unloaded their gear, sharing the same grim expression as they took in the drizzly weather and soft ground. 

“It’s all so…” Rex shifted his pack further onto his shoulder, thinking carefully about the right word to describe their surroundings. 

“Grey?” Cody offered.

“Miserable,” Rex settled on that.

Cody nodded in agreement, unimpressed by what they had seen of France so far. He turned to their squad and ordered them to sound off.

Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, Kix, Wooley, Waxer, Gregor, and Boil all confirmed their presence, spread out on the damp grass checking their packs over like the well-trained soldiers they all were.

Cody gave his thanks to the boat captain who huffed back some curt French before starting up the little motor and pulling out of the harbour as if he couldn’t get away soon enough. If his map was correct, they were very close to the Allied front lines, the faint sound of shelling reaching them even on the coast. Their orders were to make camp somewhere discreet and wait for their Generals to arrive at nightfall. 

“Alright, listen up men,” he put on his best commanding officer voice which never failed to snatch their attention. “You know I don’t like keeping things from you, but that’s the way it’s got to be. Briefing says it’s a need-to-know basis for pretty much everything, but I am allowed to tell you the basics,” he pointed at the treeline a few yards from the shore. “We’ll set up camp over there, so we can keep an eye out for the Generals. In terms of our objective, it’s a base of some kind, somewhere behind enemy lines. We are to get in, destroy it, and push from their six, flushing the enemy out, straight into our guns,” 

He saw a few heads nodding along, others looking more confused. One soldier raised his hand.

“Yes, Wooley?”

“Pardon for asking sir, but aren’t we going to need a bit more information than ‘a base’ if we’re going to be able to pull this off?” he asked, a bit sheepish.

“I don’t like how secretive it all is either, but we are to follow the Generals’ lead,” Cody was always honest with his men, an attribute of his command style which he was very proud of, and that gained him a lot of respect, from the rank-and-file and superior officers alike. Satisfied that a few of the concerned faces looked a bit more at ease, he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Alright, lets move out. I want a full munitions inventory before their vessel even crosses the horizon,”

“Sir yes sir!” a chorus of voices called as they made to trudge through the boggy mud toward the trees where they’d have cover if they needed it. 

Rex lagged behind with his brother, bumping their shoulders companionably when he knew they were out of sight – he didn’t like to think he could be undermining Cody’s authority in front of the others,  
so kept a professional demeanour most of the time. Well, some of the time, at least.

“I still can’t believe they made you burn the papers,” he hissed, eyes wide with intrigue. “Me and you, Codes, on a secret mission!”

“I know, its all very important,” Cody’s mouth was pressed into a thin worried line as he watched his men chatter as they walked. This was going to be dangerous; he knew it.

“Two Generals!” Rex knocked his shoulder again. 

“Rex,” Cody wasn’t sure he should be telling his brother anything he’d read in the top-secret briefing pack, but he decided that it wouldn’t do any harm, considering they would all soon find out who they were going to be serving under when the men themselves arrived later on. “These Generals-“

“Please tell me,” his brother dropped his voice lower, but still managed to sound almost giddy with excitement. 

“Well, we know them. Or rather, we know of them, we’ve seen them before, o-or I have,” he stumbled over his words, a shiver of dread crawling up his spine as the memories surfaced. Sand, hot sun, bullet-fire, and blood. 

“Gallipoli?” Rex asked, voice gentle as it always was when they talked about that particular subject. He had only been a Corporal at the time, part of a back-up division that mostly kept to the south, covering a flank that didn’t really need much covering. Rex hadn’t been there, where Cody and his other older brothers had been, right in the middle of all that fighting, all that death. Each night Cody thanked everything he could that Rex had been able to stay out of it.

Cody nodded, and passed over a creased photograph he’d kept from the briefing pack.

“Didn’t feel right to burn someone’s picture,” he explained somewhat weakly. 

Rex turned it over and saw a greyscale yet striking image of a man on horseback, sabre in hand, staring defiantly at the camera. It was clearly a staged, official photograph, but the craggy rock and pale sand gave it a real atmosphere. The man was dressed in light coloured uniform with a captain’s hat, sporting a fashionably full moustache. 

“A cavalryman?” Rex passed it back, faced down in case anyone saw it. 

“There wasn’t a photograph of the other one, the Canadian, Skywalker, but that’s General Kenobi, the Brit,” Cody relayed, tucking the picture away in his pocket. When Rex didn’t say anything else, he coughed and added, “He’s the one, Rex, the one who blew up the train that had us pinned down,”

Rex’s eyes went even wider, “the one Bly said charged a truck with a mounted Lewis Gun, all on his own, on a horse with just a sword?”

“The very same,” 

“Brother, they have gave us a big one,” Rex exhaled and clapped Cody on the back before jogging the rest of the short way to the rest of their men. 

“I know,” Cody breathed to himself. “That’s what I’m worried about.”


	2. Last Bird for a While

Anakin hadn’t changed one bit. 

His elevated rank clearly gave him a little more leeway with the regulations on grooming as his hair had grown into more of a messy mop than it had been the last time they’d met. But other than the new stripes on his greatcoat, the younger man was exactly as Obi-Wan remembered him.

“And yeah,” Anakin stood, scooping up his hat to press it on top of his wild hair. “Long story short we’ve written each and every day since,”

“If that’s the short of it I’d wager we’d need a voyage to India to cover the long version,” Obi-Wan smiled at him despite himself, straightening by his side on the deck of their small landing craft. 

“Oh, you’re just jealous,” Anakin teased, the lovesick smile that had been plastered across his face from the very moment he began speaking of his sweetheart hadn’t quite passed. Once their discussion had drifted from the mission, Anakin’s chatter had filled the choppy journey quite pleasantly. If Obi-Wan was quite honest, he’d missed the man.

“Just you make sure you marry her, do you hear me?” he teased, crouching to check his pack one last time, keenly feeling the loss of the saddlebags he used to be able to carry on Boga’s back. His trusty mare had gotten him both in and out of many scrapes in past campaigns, but this was no time for cavalry heroics.

“Of course I’ll marry her!” Anakin seemed affronted. “She is the true love of my life, there shall-“

“Never be another like Padme, yes Anakin, I was listening,” tucking the compass into his pocket, Obi-Wan steadied himself against his younger counterpart as a particularly harsh gust of wind threatened his balance. “I’m afraid your correspondence will have to take a brief pause as I don’t suppose we’ll be passing many postal collection points,”

“No British ones, anyway,” Anakin snorted, but nodded. “I know, it’s okay, I sent her a pearl necklace and a little note about being away on important business for a while,”

“Dear Lord, Anakin, you didn’t tell her anything about the mission, did you?” Obi-Wan pleaded, but the sheepish expression on the younger’s face told him everything he needed to know. “Oh, sweet salvation,”

“She’ll keep it a secret! I had to tell her use in case she thought I’d stopped loving her, or run off with a London girl, or something,” Anakin defended himself, but ducked his head a little, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Well, let’s just hope it really is true love,” Obi-Wan clapped him on the shoulder as the shoreline came close enough to see little figures moving in the treeline across a field at the mouth of the river where it met the sea. 

-

“I wonder what they’re like,” Anakin mused as they made their way across the mud to meet the men they would be commanding. The sky was darkening quickly as night crept across it, the distant sound of shelling becoming clearer the further they walked out of the wind. Kit had lamented at length about how unbearably cold it had been on the Western Front but Obi-Wan grimly noted that it was likely that the mud and pervasive damp already seeping into his bones that would get him before any frost had the chance.

“They’re supposed to be the best,” said Obi-Wan, suddenly feeling a little nervous. Nonsense, of course, he was a British officer and a gentleman, raised for command in one setting or other since he was but a boy. But something about the easy chatter with Anakin, offset by the way his heart had dropped when their small boat crew had called him General, set him on edge.

The briefing plans, dutifully memorised, painted a bleak picture of the French campaign; its stagnancy was a stark contrast to the stories of heroes and victories printed in the papers back home. It would be tough, it would be cold, and it would be bloody miracle if they succeeded, let alone make it out alive.

“Right,” Anakin’s amusement pulled him out of his thoughts, slowing their paces with a slap to his chest. “The best,”

Obi-Wan followed his eyeline to see a soldier up a tree, the rest of the squad gathered round, some sat, others stood to attention facing a man with his hands on his hips whenever he wasn’t gesturing wildly. 

“Oh good, Anakin, you’ll fit right in,” Obi-Wan smirked at his young friend, drawing considerable enjoyment from the affronted expression that often graced his features when they were together. 

“And just what, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d need reminding about the radio tower,” Obi-Wan chuckled before composing himself as they came within earshot of their new troops, determined to give at least some semblance of a professional first impression.

He ignored Anakin’s muttering, instead instantly enthralled by the very stern telling off being delivered in front of him. A few of the soldiers had spotted them a while ago, straightening where they sat or stood, wide eyes visible the closer he got. The man Obi-Wan assumed as their Lieutenant had his back to them, so he carried on his reprimanding, accent clipped and distinct, none the wiser of the approach of their Generals.

“This is the kind of behaviour I would expect from shiny new recruits, not from you! What on this green earth did you think would happen, Waxer, when you climbed up- no! no, Jesse, I don’t care what he was retrieving, your helmets should be on your heads, not being launched at birds. Which, on a separate note, don’t you think these poor birds have gone through enough? You read Bly’s report: no birds, for miles and miles, they can’t stand the shelling, so that poor bastard-“

“But sir-“

“No, Fives! It’s not good enough. This is not the impression we need to give!” 

“Sir-“

“Do you know who we’re supposed to be serving under? He’s a hero! I can’t believe-“

“Cody!” a blond soldier, the second to last one to notice their approach hissed at the commanding officer who spun to face him. 

“What?”

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan allowed himself a little indulgence in some dramatics, but felt marginally bad when the soldier blanched, some of the rich colour draining out of his alarmingly attractive face. 

“G-General Kenobi, Sir!” the Lieutenant snapped his posture to attention, strong jaw clenched as if biting back a string of colourful curses at the situation. 

Now, Obi-Wan knew certain things about himself, had done since his Eton days, that at present he was desperately trying to strangle in his mind as it focussed on the stray black curls of hair that hadn’t been covered by his hat, the twisting scar curling round his eye, and the line of the man’s throat as he swallowed nervously. Such feelings were unhelpful at best, and dangerous at worst, so he wet his lips to fight through the drying of his throat and stepped forward to salute his men.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” his voice was as smooth and level as always, he noted with satisfaction. He had come a long way since being a flustered undergraduate, and really, if after all he’d been through all it took was a disarmingly attractive officer to make him falter then Obi-Wan would not be fit to call himself a gentleman. “I am General Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is-“

“General Anakin Skywalker of the Canadian Expeditionary Forces,” Anakin stepped forward earning an eyeroll from Obi-Wan who distinctly lacked General Windu’s restraint. 

“Quite. And you are?” Obi-Wan relaxed his stance, but the men remained at attention. 

“First Lieutenant Fett, sir,” the officer informed before gesturing to the blond man who had stepped in before. “This is Sergeant Fett-“

“Pleasure to meet you,” Obi-Wan bowed his head at each of the Fetts, struck by the resemblance. The Lieutenant, whom Obi-Wan assumed was the elder of the two, indicated to their men and gave a single, sometimes strange, name for each. He looked anxious, which would certainly not do; Obi-Wan cursed his new rank, deciding to try to put the men at ease a little. “You there, up in the tree,”

“Waxer, sir!”

“Waxer, be sure to bend you knees when you land, my good man, lest you break your ankles like the illustrious General Skywalker here managed in the desert,” he felt his lips quirk into a supressed smile at Anakin’s bristling and the shock that flashed across each of the soldiers’ faces. He felt the First Lieutenant’s eyes on him and fought the compulsion to turn and try to decipher every aspect of his expression. Get it together, Kenobi, he admonished himself.

Waxer dropped, obediently bending his knees, and grinned when he found his bones all intact. He slapped a tin domed helmet into the arms of a sheepish looking corporal Fett had announced as Jesse. 

“Well, it will be our honour to serve alongside you all,” Obi-Wan smiled at them, thoughts of their mission souring his mood as he knew in his heart that not all of the faces looking to him for orders would make it home to their mothers, their sweethearts, their children. “Straight to it, I’m afraid. Anakin will brief you on what we are able to divulge at this moment in time, then we will move to the checkpoint under the cover of darkness,”

A chorus of “sir, yes sir,” resounded.

“Oh, and your Lieutenant is quite correct,” Obi-Wan more felt rather than saw Anakin’s exasperation at his performance. “That bird is likely to be the last you’ll see for a while,”

The Lieutenant’s face flushed darkly, and Obi-Wan really should learn his given name. 

“Alright, now we’re all acquainted, let’s get started,” Anakin crouched over a patch of clear ground and spread out a map he’d produced from one of his many pockets. 

Obi-Wan moved out of the way, giving a polite distance between himself and the huddle of soldiers that had formed around his counterpart, each eager to see exactly what was planned for them. He leaned against a tree, watching the sky grow darker by the minute as Anakin relayed what he had already memorised on the journey to the Southampton Docks before he met the younger General. 

When he glanced back to the group, he was met with striking amber eyes fixed on his, colour still noticeable despite the growing darkness. 

They held each other’s gaze for a few moments, longer than perhaps they should have, before the Lieutenant flushed again, turning his attention back to Anakin, who had possibly asked him a question if the man’s frown and slight fidgeting was anything to go by. 

Obi-Wan brought a hand to his beard, comforted by the familiar action that came whenever he was deep in thought. He had always been careful, never acting unless entirely sure any advances would be returned, lest he find himself in deep, deep trouble. There was something he always looked for: a certain quality of the eye contact. Not a promise, not so much as a suggestion, but a latent curiosity. 

Perhaps he had imagined such significance in the eyes of his new Lieutenant; perhaps it had only been misplaced awe at the stories that seemed to spread wherever Kenobi was deployed, significantly alongside Skywalker since- since the desert. Had he not over heard the officer mention his reputation? 

He would be careful. He would not act. They had a mission of great importance, the success of which was depended upon by a significant portion of the Western Front campaign. 

Obi-Wan resolved to put thoughts of eyes like liquid gold out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! I really hope you enjoyed this ~ I'm in the middle of my degree so chapters might be a bit sporadic but! I fully intend to keep it up :)) Thank you so so much every read and kudos and comment is so greatly appreciated! 
> 
> ALSO! I know its strange not having Cody as Commander and Rex as Captain b u t as a history student I couldn't get over the fact that commander is a naval rank ahahaha I've tried to be historically accurate where possible so the ranks will have to do

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'll post the next chapters soon, please let me know if you have any feedback - I'm studying history at uni and couldn't get this idea out of my head! Hope you like it :)


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